


greatest treasure in the world

by owlinaminor



Series: courferre week 2k14 [7]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Courferre Week, F/F, Female Combeferre, Female Courfeyrac, Princes & Princesses, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the top of the mountain, there lives a dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	greatest treasure in the world

**Author's Note:**

> courferre week, day six!
> 
> it's very possible that I'll edit and repost this one sometime later, because I really love this idea but I'm exhausted right now so I'm not entirely sure the fic turned out the way I wanted it to. still, enjoy.

On the top of the mountain, there lives a dragon.

Years ago, the dragon kidnapped the kingdom's young princess and took her away to its home, high up in the icy peaks.  Many princes have tried valiantly to scale the mountain, find the secret entrance to the dragon's cave, and rescue the princess.  They have set off with great fanfares and parades, with shiny new armor and swords sharper than moonlight, with quick wits and promises of glory.  None of them have ever been heard from again.

Courfeyrac has grown up listening to stories of the princess and the dragon.  How the princess screamed loudly enough to wake the entire town when she was carried off.  How the dragon defended its prize with searing columns of fire that cleared half the forest.  How the princes' helmets are tossed down the mountain like so many discarded toys, cracked and rusted.  They tell the stories to scare the little girls of the town -- to help teach them not to go wandering alone at night, because you never know when a dragon might snatch you up and carry you away forever.

Most little girls cower under their mother's skirts when they hear the stories.  Most little girls spend weeks afterward asking their fathers to check under their beds and in their closets before they go to bed for dragons that could swallow them up in the night.

When her uncle told her the story, Courfeyrac grinned.  "I'm going to rescue that princess!" she said, green eyes twinkling.

They told her she was silly, of course.  Little girls don't fight dragons, and big girls -- big girls have floors to mop, food to cook, clothing to mend.  And besides, how could a girl possibly store a sword in the waistband of her dress?  It simply wouldn't fit.

But Courfeyrac didn't listen.

She watched the little boys her age sword-fighting with short staffs and bits of leftover metal, and then took their unwanted leftovers and practiced herself.  Late at night when she was supposed to be sleeping, she read through books of valiant knights and their adventures.  When she was fourteen, she saved up all of her pocket money for months to commission the blacksmith to make her a set of armor and a sword of her own.

Now, at sixteen, she is ready to climb that mountain – and determined to do it, no matter the cost.

It’s no easy trek, of course.  There are outcroppings of rock so thin, she nearly slips into the valley below, and paths so narrow, she has to plan every step before she can place her feet.  Courfeyrac has to hunt for her own food, wash her own wounds, and fix her own armor when it needs repairing.  Most knights travel with an entourage of squires and pages, but no servant in his right mind would want to work for a girl, so Courfeyrac has only her own two hands.  And yet, she still manages to climb the mountains, cross the rivers, and keep herself alive.

She finds the entrance to the dragon’s cave quite by accident.  Courfeyrac is chasing a rabbit in the hopes of catching it for supper when she takes a wrong turn and stumbles upon a yawning cavernous mouth hidden in the shadow of a tall outcropping of rocks.  The entrance is gigantic, and as Courfeyrac starts to walk (rabbit completely forgotten) it only increases in size.  She puts her hand on the wall and treads slowly but eagerly, determined to find where the tunnel leads.

After an indeterminable (but definitely long) amount of time, the tunnel starts to narrow and Courfeyrac starts to think she can see a small, flickering light at the end.  She puts on her helmet, just in case, and starts to run.

The entrance, as it turns out, is to a cave, which is full.  Completely jam-packed.  There is no free space, no blank surface to be found anywhere, despite the fact that it is easily large enough to fit twelve times as many people as live in Courfeyrac’s village.  In a few isolated spots, pieces of floor or wall are visible, but for the most part, every square inch is covered by ...

Everything is books.  There are thin books, thick books, old books, new books.  There are books of every color, every subject, every emotion.  There are books about places Courfeyrac would love to visit and in languages she has never heard of.  There are so many books, it would take her several lifetimes to read them all.

When they told her that there was a dragon on the mountain, they didn’t tell her that instead of hoarding gold or jewels, he hoarded books.

Courfeyrac blinks a few times, then pinches herself, just to be certain she isn’t dreaming.  She steps into the cave cautiously, looking around before every step.  She runs her fingers gingerly along the spines of ancient volumes as she passes.  The further she goes, the more surreal everything seems – as though she has stepped through a door into another world.

It is only after she has been walking for several minutes that she notices the princess.

At least, Courfeyrac assumes she’s the lost princess from the stories, because no other girl has disappeared into this particular dragon’s cave never to return –not that Courfeyrac knows of, anyway.  The princess is perched on the top of possibly the only solid object Courfeyrac can see that isn’t a book: something red and arched above a couple of stacks.  She’s wearing a light blue dress and her feet are bare.  Her hair tumbles down around her shoulders, long and golden and silky-smooth.  Courfeyrac can’t see her face, as she’s bent over an old volume that she seems to be balancing on her knees.

“Um, hi!” Courfeyrac calls over.

The princess turns around so quickly, she drops her book.

And she’s – she’s got clear blue eyes, and lovely cheekbones, and this perfect “o” of surprise, and – she’s –

There’s no way she’s just a princess.  She has to be a goddess or something.  Mere mortals are not this beautiful.

But before Courfeyrac can recover from her dazed state of disbelief, the princess starts to shout at her: “What are you doing here?  How did you get in?  Enjolras!”

Oh, no.  Oh, _no._   Courfeyrac forgot to take off her helmet when she walked into the cave, so the princess must think she’s just like any other prince who wants to rescue her for the fame and the glory.

Courfeyrac reaches up to unfasten her helmet – and the ground moves beneath her.

Suddenly, where she thought she was standing on nothing but books, she’s now balancing precariously on a thin, red tail.  Balancing – and then not balancing – and then sitting on her bottom, straddling the tail with her legs.

“Wait, no!” she exclaims.  “I’m – I’m not –”

She struggles with her helmet, somehow taking much longer with its fastenings than usual.  When it finally comes off, Courfeyrac finds herself staring directly into one massive eye.  It’s as tall as she is, and incredibly piercing, as though she’s looking into the face of some ancient god.

“Hi,” Courfeyrac says.  “I’m not here to slay you.  I’m really not.  I promise.”

The eye narrows, its owner clearly not convinced.

“You aren’t?” the princess adds, from where she’s now standing on top of a certain creature’s scaly head.

“Yeah.  I’m not.”  Courfeyrac nods quickly, attempting to appear as earnest as possible.

“Then, why are you here?”

The princess jumps down onto the tail so that she’s standing next to Courfeyrac, and wow.  _Wow_.  She’s even lovelier up close.  Courfeyrac has a Problem.

She attempts to calm her thoughts from their whirlwind mess of _wow she’s beautiful I wonder what her hair would feel like if I ran my hands through it I wonder what her lips would taste like if I kissed her I wonder what her eyes would look like if I made her laugh_ and explains, “I just wanted an adventure, and finding the lost princess seemed like as good an adventure as any.”

“You’re certainly nothing like the other princes who’ve come through here,” the princess concedes.  The dragon looks on with curiosity.

Courfeyrac grins.  “Oh, that’s because I’m not a prince at all.  I’m just a peasant girl who happens to also be able to pass for a knight.  Courfeyrac,” she adds, sticking out her hand.  “Nice to meet you.”

The princess takes it and shakes firmly.  Her hand is warm and covered in the dust of old books, and it slots into Courfeyrac’s as though they were made for each other.

“Combeferre,” she says.  “And I’m the princess who was kidnapped by a dragon and decided to stick around because I quite liked his library.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely some library,” Courfeyrac agrees, looking around at the stacks upon stacks upon stacks of books.

Combeferre follows her gaze and sighs contentedly.  (It’s adorable.)  “I could stay here forever,” she admits.  “Even in my whole lifetime, I could never read all of these books.  I’ve learned so much about the world already, and I have so much more to read still.  I never want to leave.”

Courfeyrac realizes that a cave full of treasure such as this would be a wonderful place to spend one’s life, but still, something seems ... Not quite right.

“But your people miss you,” she argues quietly, looking down at the dragon’s scaly tale.  “You have a kingdom to lead, you know.”

Combeferre shrugs.  “I have books to read.”

Courfeyrac frowns and takes a step closer.  “Yes,” she says, “but there are real-live, actual, non-fictional _people_ who need you.  And besides, you say you want to learn about the world?  Well, how are you going to learn anything about the world if you only read about it, instead of living in it?”

The cave is silent for a long time.

And then, Courfeyrac feels a low rumbling beneath her feet, as though the very earth is shaking apart.  The dragon is laughing.

“I never thought about it that way,” Combeferre says.

“I tend to make people say that,” Courfeyrac replies.  She looks around the cave one more time – the books, the dragon, and the tiny window to the outside world – and asks, “So, what do you say?  Want to go back to your kingdom with me?  You can even bring the dragon, if he can promise not to set anyone on fire.”

* * *

The princess and the explorer pause on a ledge overlooking their home.

Far away on the horizon, the sun is rising in a luminous soup of gold and red and purple, the light touching the rooftops of the houses in all of villages of the kingdoms.  Combeferre watches the light, and  Courfeyrac watches Combeferre.

“Is everything alright?” Courfeyrac asks quietly.

Combeferre nods.  “I’m only ... Nervous,” she says.  “I haven’t seen my parents, or any of my people, in so long.  What will they think of me, escaping to read books?”

Instinctually, before she can regret it, Courfeyrac reaches down and grabs Combeferre’s hand.  “They’ll love you,” she replies.  “You’ll do great.”

Combeferre smiles and holds on tight, her _thank you_ unspoken, but heard nonetheless.

* * *

_“You know, Courfeyrac, I used to think that Enjolras’ collection of books was the greatest treasure in the world.  But now ... I’m not so sure.”_


End file.
